Nearly Witches
by kwoods24
Summary: HIATUS. When I crawled through that closet I sure as hell didn't expect to find myself in Victorian Era London. Nor did I expect a certain dark haired handsome man could be such a pain in the ass...
1. Goodnight Socialite

**Hello once again! This is my first Infernal Devices fic, but hey, I've been wanting to do one for awhile, so there you go. I'm pretty sure this is going to not be the bestest fic ever but it sure is original(ish). If you care to know what the inspiration was, you can look at my profile cause it's kind of awkward and weird and basically the cluster fuck child of all these other inspirations. If not... well then thats cool too.**

**Updates will be daily, but most likely shorter then the chapters I usually write. I kinda want to do this as a stress-free fun thing, so do not expect some mind blowing experience, However I hope it will be entertaining! **

**Without further ado, ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: I does not own. I does like cats however...**

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><p>Just wait one minute will you?" I called over my shoulder. "So impatient…" I muttered while descending down the stairs to the wine cellar. My aunt was usually a very relaxed person; that is, when she <em>wasn't<em> hosting one of her lavish parties. Under those circumstances however, she needs everything to be _perfect_ and everyone well attended to.

Hence, why I was headed down to the basement to restock the wine supply above even though we weren't even halfway done with the bottle.

"You never know Tessa," aunt Harriet said shooing me downstairs, "someone could have a sudden craving for the Cabernet."

Sighing as I closed the door behind me, grateful for the brief break from the summer heat. Smoothing my hands on my shorts, I grabbed a couple bottles and dawdled on the way back up, relishing in the cool feel to the air.

I spotted a door across the room that I hadn't noticed, well, ever before. True, we didn't visit my Aunt's townhouse in England often, but I had been here enough times to notice details as mundane as where the hell there were doors.

"Hmm," I sighed stroking my chin. I debated whether or not to rush upstairs (like my aunt expected me to) or take a break from the chaos and check out what lay beyond this door.

Curiosity won and I set across the room, wine bottles in hand. I pushed open the door and…

There was nothing. Just a bare closet space or something.

Nothing can describe the urge I suddenly felt to walk inside that closet, and see what else it might hold. It was such a strong, possessive need that I had no chance of resisting, and as I stepped inside I caught sight of a crawl space.

"Why the hell not? Made it this far…" I muttered while grasping the bottles of wine in my hands as I got down on all fours and started crawling on the ground like I was two or something.

I don't know how long I had crawled for, but it felt like a long time. There were no lights on the cement walls, making it increasingly harder to see, but something inside of me kept urging me forward, until I finally caught sight of something.

A brass door handle. One that looked so old and elegant, that it could be something from the Victorian era.

The need was turning into a physical pain now, and I could almost hear a voice saying: _Good, good, open the door Tessie. See what magic lays behind…._

I pushed down the handle and peered through, into a dimly light room. A bed room I suppose, since I could see the end of a bed that had a heavy looking velvet cover and large wooden posts.

I got up and off the ground and took a few more steps in the room. It had all the basics; a dresser, mirror, bed, closet (which I had just crawled out of) but that was it. I guess it could be described as plain by our standards, holding only that furniture, but each piece was unique and carved from a dark rich looking wood, making it seem lavish as a castle. The walls, which had nothing on them but some thick dark drapes that were equally plain, but the rich red color and the white crown molding that sure as hell looked original, made the walls look more decorated then if they'd been covered with pictures or posters.

I had just taken a step inside, when I took notice of a pair of piercing blue eyes that observed me from the bed.

" 'Ello luv," said a masculine, British accented voice, but with a cocky undertone. "Didn't make a call to the whore house tonight but I'd never refuse a lady. And look at that"- he gestured to the wine bottles clutched in my hands- "you brought your own poison."

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><p><strong>So basically expect this long, maybe longer but not really shorter.<strong>

**Um, you can review if you fancy and unlike other stories I actually have a full plot laid out.**

**Okay... so... UNTIL TOMORROW COMRADES!**


	2. All of the Drugs

**I'm an awful person. I am fully aware of that fact. Alas, I cannot find it in me to change myself so infrequent updates are guaranteed. What can I say? Once you go on tumblr, nothing else exists.**

**Without further introduction here's the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Oh and sorry if it's really out there or something I just walked 5 miles when it was 100 degrees and I'm tired and it's late and yeah.**

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><p>I stared. And stared. And you can't really blame me. This boy- no <em>man<em> – in front of me was like the epitome of hot guys. Inky black hair atop an angular face with high cheekbones, those deep blue eyes, and full lips now tilted in a smirk.

And for some reason I couldn't make my own mouth work quite right.

"Oh bloody hell," he said still looking at me, but this time his expression held annoyance. "I told them _not_ to send another damn mute whore…"

And then realized he'd called me a hooker. _Twice_. I don't know how one is expected to react in such a situation, but for me it means acting quite unladylike.

"Whoa whoa whoa," I said crossing my arms. "Where the hell do you get off calling me a whore?"

"Maybe it has to do with the fact you are standing practically naked in front of me?"

"_What_?" I practically screamed. I gestured to my jean shorts and red t-shirt, "You call this practically naked-"

And then I took a pause when my eyes drifted from his face down to what he was wearing and I swear in that moment I was the definition of "deer caught in headlights". Because he wasn't wearing what I had expected him to be wearing at all.

He was clad in loafers, and some pretty legit trousers with the pocket over his junk and everything. On top, he had a fancy ass button down and a freaking waistcoat.

"Where the fuck am I?" I asked still dumbfounded.

"My my, you American girls have such a foul mouth. But if you really don't know, you're in London luv."

"No shit Sherlock, like I couldn't gather that from you're accent. I guess a better question to ask is… when am I?"

"1878."

I slowly sank to the floor. What the hell had been in that crawl space that had made me high enough to actually believe I was in Victorian Era London?

Or was I high? I searched the room for a mirror and failed to find one.

"Hey, do you mind doing me a favor?" I kept talking before he had time to retort with a smart-ass comment most likely involving intercourse. "Check my pupils, and see if they're dilated will you?"

"Alright," he said approaching me as if I'd gone mad. In all honesty, I probably had. "No, they look fine to me. Why ever would you be concerned…"

He hadn't really stopped talking, but the blood was rushing in my ears and I couldn't hear anything anymore. I tipped over and laid my head on the ground. Oh hell no. This couldn't be real. Maybe I passed out from heat stroke or maybe I conked my head on the top of the crawl space or something. I squeezed my eyes shut and got my Wizard of Oz on.

_There's no place like home. There's no place like home…_

I felt a hand lightly jostle my shoulder and my eyelids flew open to reveal another young man. His features spoke of an Asian descent and he had dark hair and eyes to match.

My hearing came back in increments, at first a hum, but later I was able to catch words coming from the Asian man's mouth.

"… William, why is it you have found this obviously confused, naked woman come out of your closet? I mean I know you make up most of your stories but-"

"For the last time," I said my voice surprisingly even and sure, "I am _not_ naked. I'm just not as decked out as girls from your era are, okay?"

"Decked out?" William asked.

"_Your _era?" the Asian man asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, for starters, we don't go calling everybody a whore unless they're actually dressed, or I guess the better term would be _un_dressed, like one. Secondly I come from the grand year of 2011, you know, black president, national debt, um…" I stuttered looking for another reference. "Charlie Sheen?" I said at last begging them to tell me I was punk'd or something or for recognition to flare in their eyes but I got absolutely nothing other then the flat stare of the confused.

"She's raving mad," William stated with finality.

"No I'm not!" I yelled losing myself. God it was like talking to a brick wall.

"Only one way to find out," the Asian man said with a thoughtful hand on his chin. "We need to call on Mr. Bane."

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><p><strong>Yay character introductions! So feel free to review and tell me <em>I'm<em> raving mad and I should be institutionalized. I don't know. I need shower and sleep.**


	3. Be Calm

**Oh man I haven't updated in years. Oh man I need to study for finals. Oh man this should be longer but this one has to be short so the next can be long.**

**Well you all probably hate me but this was written on the plane ride home from Hawaii. Fun stuff.**

**Disclaimer: Oh and a little book came out that ruined me and now I just sort of hermite around and cry. Thanks Cassie!**

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><p>"Well what we have here is quite the conundrum."<p>

Mr. Bane, or Magnus, carried a very high air of superiority. He was very well dressed, holding a jeweled cane and clad in a finely made suit. He had arrived not too long ago and had exchanged a few words with the Asian looking guy whose name I discovered was Jem. I had stayed in the room with the dark haired guy and he had given me a blanket to wrap myself in.

"You know so you can be a bit more… presentable," he explained with a blush. Oh man this was awkward, but at least it did serve a purpose to give a little warmth in this ice-box of a room. The only heat came from the fireplace at the far side of the room and it wasn't doing much for me.

Magnus and Jem joined us from the hall and after Magnus asked a few questions- what's your name, where are you from, what is the last thing you recall- he came to kneel in front of me.

"Let us see," Magnus muttered and I noticed something I hadn't before.

His eyes, oh my god those eyes! How had I not noticed before?

What I had assumed were average human eyes, now seemed more to resemble the eyes of my aunts cat- blue green and slitted.

I was frozen. Sure, we had some weird hipster types that came to the bookstore with oddities similar to these. Some had pointy ears, or they would have scales on their hands. But those were all fake (right?) and those customers always seemed so distant towards me. I tended to write things like these off as too much work, or too little coffee.

But up so close, jeez those eyes were kinda freaky. And _man _did they look real.

But they couldn't be real, nobody has that kind of eyes that is just not normal. Proving once more, that I really shouldn't rule out the Punk'd theory just yet.

"By the look on her face she can see my eyes," Magnus concluded with a small nod. He got to his feet and turned to the two anxious looking gentlemen behind him. "You know what that means."

"She's sighted," William said.

"Excuse me, not to butt in or whatever but what does that mean?" I asked. Of course I had eyesight, how do you think I had seen those freaky eyes?

Ignoring me they continued, "We have to tell Charlotte," Jem said. "I don't know what else we can do, but it's almost dinner time and I don't want to stuff her back in the closet."

"Alright fine," William said with a huff. "But she cannot come to dinner dressed like _that_."

"These shorts were forty dollars thankyouverymuch," I muttered since they were still playing the 'Let's ignore Tessa' game.

I didn't want these people's clothes, or their attentions. I just wanted to go home and curl up with a book and get the hell out of here.

But that seemed like none of that was going to happen, which means I could only do one thing. Be calm.

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><p><strong>Oh hello there my no longer readers. Whats that? I suck? Oh I know thanks. But this thing called 'high school' is kicking my butt so that leaves just enough time to do absolutely nothing! Woot!<strong>

**So CP broke my heart. Into a million pieces. I don't understand how one cannot love Will after that book. Like you have to be dead to still hate him. Legit.**

**And if any of you care, **CP SPOILERS FOR THE REST OF THIS LITTLE PARAGRAPH THING** I love Jem. And I love Tessa. But I _really_ don't like Jem _and_ Tessa. Like they're both so soft and they're both too nice and their relationship will most likely consist of Tessa worrying about Jem's disease and it's not fair to Tessa cause Jem is going to die soon and Will is being all noble and supportive and that makes me want to cry and I really hope that Jem ends up with someone better for him and someone who makes him really happy and I didn't have a prefrence before and now I feel like I'm going to die if Jem and Tessa go through with the wedding and omg *dies***

**In other news, it's finals week this week and I haven't studied at all. Instead I've decided to watch every episode of 'How I Met Your Mother' and crying because I really liked Victoria and Ted together (like Robin wtf make up your fucking mind about Ted) and I finished the first season and I'm 6 episodes into the second so no spoilers and yup.**

**So I'll try for the next chapter, and I have a little one-shot in the works for one of Cassie's CP2 spoilers and I'm on a roll.**

**Sorry guys, I don't mean to be mean and not update but life just kinda has other ideas.**


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